


I'm Fine, I'm Better

by casesandcapitals



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Kidnapping, M/M, Medication, Off screen Torture, re-education facility
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-08 10:05:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casesandcapitals/pseuds/casesandcapitals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank stares at the smooth, blank white wall and blinks a few times. It feels like every time he reopens his eyes the wall is either closer or farther away and he wonders briefly if it's the pills finally working or if he's going crazy. He wonders which one he prefers.</p><p>(Fun Ghoul and Party Poison are roomed together in a BL/ind re-education facility)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Frank stares at the smooth, blank white wall and blinks a few times. It feels like every time he reopens his eyes the wall is either closer or farther away and he wonders briefly if it's the pills finally working or if he's going crazy. He wonders which one he prefers.  
Some time passes but he doesn't know how much. There's no clock in his room. Eventually though, he hears yelling. Yelling isn't new here, so Frank stays where he is and stares at the wall. He blinks and it gets really close, then far away again. He knows he could simply reach out his fingers to touch the wall and it would come back into focus, but he really doesn't have the energy.  
The yelling gets louder and Frank can make out a few words. Threating words, curse words, a few words that sound familiar but flit away in his head before he can remember where he's heard them. He can hear boots now, and a scraping noise. Someone skidding their shoes against the white floors as they get pushed and pulled along. Frank's heard that sound before.  
A thud and another curse. The yelling cuts off. He knows that noise too. Whoever was yelling just got hit. Frank curls tighter around his middle and shuts his eyes completely. He hasn't acted up in a while so they haven't felt the need to take him to The Room... but he still remembers exactly what it feels like.  
Someone's unlocking his door, punching in the key code. The door swishes open and Frank covers his head with his hands, twisting his fingers into his long black hair and keeping his eyes shut tight.  
No one grabs him though. Instead Frank hears a scuffle, a curse, another thud, then the door sliding shut.  
There's another person in his room with him, and Frank doesn't want to look.  
The man starts yelling again, banging his fists against the white door and swearing. After some time he stops. Frank hears the soft creak of him sitting down on the bed opposite his.  
"Fuck," the man sighs.  
Frank stays where he is, eyes shut, curled up in a ball with his hands over his head.  
"Hey," the man says. "Hey, you alive over there?"  
Frank stays perfectly still. It's something he learned from his time here; they stop if you stop moving.  
"Come on, alive or dead?" the guys presses. "Tell me they didn't room me with a fucking ghost."  
Ghost is a word he remembers, though he can't remember where he learned it. Or when. Or why. But he knows he's not a ghost.  
Frank shifts slightly, just to move his hands from around his head to curled against his stomach.  
"So, alive then. Good to know." The man sighs then stands. Starts pacing. "So typical," he says. "I told them I was shit at recon, said I was stealthy as a concussed Drac, but does anyone listen to me? Fucking, _no_. This is just perfect."  
The man doesn't seem to care that Frank's not listening, even though he is.  
"Everything's all Costa Rica now. I'm gonna punch Show Pony in the fucking teeth for making me take recon. What the fuck."  
More words that Frank recognizes but can't remember why. Costa Rica. Show Pony. They used to mean something to him and now they sound fake. He opens his eyes and blinks at the wall again. The man is still talking and he wishes he wouldn't.  
"So hey, if we're gonna be shacked up together I should know your name, right? I'm Party Poison."  
Frank hunches his shoulders against the words.  
"Come on, you gotta have a name," he insists.  
"Frank," he mutters, to try and get the man to stop talking.  
"Frank, nice. Hey, nice to meet ya. So, Frank... that's a real name. That means you're from the city right? No one in the Zones would ever give up their real name."  
"...The Zones..." Frank whispers. He blinks a few more times.  
"Yeah, yeah. You know, the Zones outside the city. You heard of them? There's six, each more dangerous than the last." He laughs then, and Frank shivers.  
"Yeah," he answers, nodding then quickly shaking his head. "No, I mean no."  
"You don't know them?" the man asks. "What do they tell you is out there then, if not the Zones?"  
"Not supposed to. Not supposed to talk about it."  
"So they don't even give people a chance to know there's something out there? Fuckers."  
"I'm not out there," Frank mutters, getting nervous now. He fears this is a test. "I'm here. I'm safe. I'm better."  
The man scoffs. "That's bullshit. You're not safe here. Do you even know where you are right now? We're in a Better Living re-education facility. I can't think of a _less_ safe place in the world."  
The test should have ended after Frank said he was safe and better, but the man is still talking. The possibility of it not being a test makes Frank's stomach hurt. He's used to pain and tests. If it's not a test, then pain is coming.  
"Please, I'm fine. I'm fine. I know better now. Don't- don't hurt me."  
"I'm not gonna hurt you, what the fuck?"  
"I told you I don't want to go back! I told you I'm better here!" Frank starts to shake now.  
"Go back where?" the man presses.  
"Out there. I'm not out there. I'm here now and I'm safe and I'm better."  
"Out there? You mean the Zones?"  
"Yes, _no_! No, there's nothing out there. I'm here now. I was never there. I'm safe."  
"You were out in the Zones before this?" he asks, his voice getting serious.  
Frank shakes his head, skin chafing against the white sheets.  
"I told you I don't want to go back anymore! I told you I'm better! Just STOP!"  
The man crosses the room in two strides and grabs Frank by the shoulders, forcing him onto his back. Frank freezes up, staring at the man who's staring at him.  
His hair is bright, bloody red. There are strands falling all around his face. His skin is slightly burnt, and his eyes are wide and alive. Frank feels like he's been punched in the stomach.  
"You're from the Zones, aren't you?" the man asks, his hands hot against Frank's white uniform. "How long have you been here?"  
"I don't know," Frank answers.  
The answer seems to make him mad and Frank shuts his eyes tight, waiting for a blow. It doesn't come, then the man lets go of Frank and steps back.  
"They've been taking people for years and we never knew what happened to them," he says softly. "We thought they just killed them. We only just found out about this place. That _this_ is where they take everyone."  
He sighs and Frank hears him sit back on his own bed. Frank rolls over to look at him, facing the room for the first time.  
"Do you remember what you were called in the Zones, Frank?"  
Frank thinks about it, and it makes his head hurt. "No."  
"Do you remember anything about your life before? I might be able to help you remember."  
Frank shakes his head, even as he mutters, "I remember colors."  
The man's red hair stands out shockingly against the white walls, the white bed, the white uniform he's wearing.  
"I remember... heat. And a car. There were... other people."  
"You had a crew?"  
Frank thinks about it then nods. "Maybe."  
"Do you remember their names?"  
Frank shakes his head.  
"Did they get taken here too?"  
"Dead, all dead."  
The man stares at him hard, like he's trying to see the answers in Frank's own mind.  
"Well, my crew ain't dead, and they're gonna come and get me. When they do, I'm taking you with me, okay?"  
Frank just stares.  
"What was your name again?"  
The man smiles, all teeth and attitude.  
"Party Poison."

The first time they come to take Party Poison away, he doesn't fight them, because he doesn't know.  
Frank knows. He hides in a ball in the corner of his bed, covering his head and closing his eyes as two Draculoids escort Party from the little white room.  
He comes back hours later, bloody and bandaged. The Dracs throw him on his bed and leave, locking the door behind them.  
Party lays in bed, breathing heavily and barely moving. It takes Frank a long time to uncurl and climb out of bed, putting his bare feet on the cold white floor. He steps slowly over toward the other bed, peering at Party's still body.  
"Did they kill you?" he asks softly.  
"Not quite," Party answers, squinting his eyes open. "They injected me with something..."  
"To fix you," Frank says, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, arms wrapped around his torso. "So they can break you again tomorrow."  
"That's kinda shitty," Party chuckles, pressing a weak hand against his ribs.  
"If they break a bone, you get a day off while it heals."  
"You say that like it's a good thing."  
Frank shrugs. "It's a day off."  
Party stares up at Frank, blinking away blood as it drips from his head. "They didn't hurt you."  
Frank shakes his head.  
"I stopped fighting a while ago. I take pills now instead."  
"You shouldn't take their shitty pills," Party growls.  
"It's better than..."  
"How long did it take before you stopped fighting?"  
"A long time," Frank mutters, turning back to climb into his bed. He curls up again and they both fall silent.

The next day, Party paces the room all morning.  
"How do I know when they'll come for me?" he asks.  
Frank answers from where he's lying in his bed.  
"The second you finish healing."  
"How do they know?"  
Frank shrugs. "They just do."  
He watches Party pace for a long time. He doesn't bother telling him it's no use, he'll figure it out eventually.  
Frank turns away and shuts his eyes when the Dracs come. Party tries to fight them off but they zap him with something that makes a sharp, cracking noise then drag him away.  
Frank spends the next few hours staring at the wall, eating his lunch, and taking his pills.  
He turns to look when they throw Party back inside.  
"You should stop fighting, you know?"  
"Fuck that," Party snaps.  
His faces is a mess of bruises and cuts and his hands look like they've been stomped on.  
"They break your fingers?" Frank asks.  
"Fuck, I think so."  
"They might not take you tomorrow."  
"Oh, that's just shiny," he says sarcastically. "When I get out of here I'm gonna burn this place to the ground."  
"You can't get out."  
"My crew is coming for me," Party tells him. "Any day now."

Party heals quick enough that they end up taking him late the next day. He fights again, and loses.

A lot of time passes but Frank can't put a number to the days. Party keeps fighting and he keeps losing. Frank watches him fight now, safe from his bed in the corner.  
He punches and bites and scratches and spits, but they always overpower him. The Dracs never even glance Frank's way and he knows better than to attract their attention.

"I remember roller skates," Frank whispers late one night, after the lights have gone off.  
"Roller skates?" Party asks, turning to look at him from across the dark room.  
"Yeah. I've been trying to remember and... Yeah. Skates and polka dots."  
Party chuckles. "There's only one person in the desert that dresses like that."  
"Oh?"  
"Show Pony."  
Frank takes a slow breath. "Yeah. Show Pony. We were crew."  
"Sorry to break it to you," Party scoffs, "but Pony doesn't have a crew."  
"He's alive? They said... they said he...."  
"They lied. He's alive."  
"Oh."  
Silence reigns for a while until Frank speaks up again.  
"But we _were_ crew. I remember. I remember the skates and a car and a chick with purple hair."  
"Maybe he had a crew before... but he never mentioned it." He looks upset.  
"What's he up to now?" Frank asks, closing his eyes and trying to picture it.  
"Intelligence mostly. He shacked up with the DJ."  
"Dr. something..."  
"Look at you, you're on a roll," Party says, sounding pleased.  
"Yeah, I guess."  
Frank falls asleep soon after and Party stays up half the night, watching him.

"Listen," Party says the next day while he's pacing, waiting for the Dracs to come. "I think you should stop taking those pills."  
Frank looks up slowly. "What?"  
"The pills they give you everyday with your food. Stop taking them."  
"I'm supposed to take them," Frank answers dully.  
"No, you're not. They're fucking with your head, Frank. Those pills are messing you up."  
Frank watches the Dracs come and beat Party down before dragging him from the room. He spends the rest of the afternoon thinking about what Party said.

Party is laying on the floor a few days later, exactly where the Dracs dropped him, when Frank decides that maybe Party Poison is right.  
He swipes the two white pills from his lunch tray and shoves them under his mattress.  
He does the same at dinner, then again the next morning.  
By the time they come back for Party, Frank has a headache.  
That night, he starts shaking.  
"Frank? You alright over there?" Party asks, lifting his head off his pillow and looking over at the quivering Frank-shaped lump.  
"Hurts," Frank mutters.  
"Your head?"  
Frank just groans in response.  
Party climbs out of bed as gently as he can, trying not to aggravate the deep lashes on his legs. He crosses the room on bare feet and sits on the edge of Frank's mattress.  
"This is a good thing, Frank. It means the pills are getting out of your system."  
"It hurts. My head... is gonna explode...."  
"No, hey. You're okay, you're gonna get through this."  
Party reaches out to stroke Frank's long black hair, brushing it away from his face. His skin feels hot, but he's sweating so Party knows it's not a fever.  
"You're gonna be great, Frank," he whispers, trying to sooth the shaking man.  
Frank lets Party stay with him, stroking his hair until he falls asleep.

Frank's vision is fucked the next day, making him see doubles of everything. But his head feels clearer, his thoughts more sharp. Party tells him he's getting better, and he believes him.

"I remember fire," Frank says one day, watching Party pace. "I think I built a bomb and we were doing... something. It went wrong though. Went all..." he snaps his fingers, trying to remember.  
"Costa Rica?" Party offers.  
"Yeah," Frank smirks. "It went all Costa Rica."  
Party stops mid-stride and faces Frank.  
"I've been thinking about what you said, about running with Show Pony."  
"Yeah?"  
"I believe you."  
Frank blinks then nods. "I'm glad."  
"Yeah, except for the next bit I have to tell you about."  
"What?"  
"I met Pony a little while after he showed up at Dr. D's place. He had this wicked burn on his side but he wouldn't talk about how he got it."  
"You think it was from the fire I remember?"  
"Yeah well, it fits, but..."  
"But what?"  
"Frank," Party says, taking a step toward him. "That was like two years ago."  
All the air in Frank's lungs rush out like he's been punched in the stomach. His head spins.  
"Two years? I can't- I can't have been in here for two _years_."  
"Do you know how long I've been here?" Party asks gently.  
Frank huffs out a breath, running his fingers through his hair. "I dunno... a couple days?"  
Party frowns. "It's been three weeks."  
Frank squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head.  
"Those pills were messing with your head."  
"I- I can't.... Two _years_?" Frank gasps. He can't get enough air into his lungs, the room is spinning. He feels like he's going to vomit.  
Party moves forward to grab Frank's shoulders.  
"Hey, calm down alright? Just breathe. It's not that bad, we're gonna get out soon."  
"You... you said your crew was coming right? But it's been so long," Frank groans.  
Party shakes his head and pushes Frank's hair away from his face.  
"It takes time to organize a raid, especially into a facility like this. We were already setting it up, just to see who was in here, when I got caught. That's gonna make them change their plans, just in case I was compromised. But they're coming, I promise you that."  
"Show Pony never came for me."  
"I don't think he knows you're here," Party says gently.  
The Dracs come soon after that to take Party away, and he doesn't put up much of a fight.

Days pass. Frank remembers more things while Party's "interrogation" time takes longer and bears worse results.  
"If they find out I stopped taking the pills, they'll start taking me to The Room again," Frank says, watching Party take quick, shallow breaths. His ribs are broken.  
"Are you scared?" Party wheezes.  
"Terrified," Frank admits, dropping his head into his hands.

The next day they come for Party, but he's still laying down. They begin dragging the injured man to his feet, but Frank jumps out of bed.  
"Hey, hang on! He's not healed yet!"  
He tries to pull one of the Dracs away from Poison but they shove him to the floor.  
"Frank," Party groans.  
The two Dracs stare at each other through their masks for a moment, then turn to Frank.  
"You have elected to go in his place."  
"What?" Frank gasps as they pull him to his feet. "No. No! Stop, get off me!"  
They start dragging Frank into the hallway.  
"Party! No, stop! Party, help!"  
Party tries to get to his feet but stumbles.  
"Frank-"  
"NO!" Frank screams as the door slides shut.  
Party listens to him screaming all the way down the hall.

It's hours before they bring him back. When the door slides open again, Frank is pushed inside and simply drops to the floor. The door slides shut again.  
"Frank!"  
Party crawls out of his bed and over to Frank's still form. He rolls him onto his back.  
"Frank, Frankie, open your eyes!"  
His breathing is labored and he looks like they put him through a meat grinder. His face is swollen, purple black yellow and green. He's bleeding through his white uniform; his arms, his legs, his back, his stomach. There's blood on his lips. He won't open his eyes.  
Party starts to sob.  
"Frank, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Frankie, come on, wake up."  
They lay on the floor together for the rest of the night; one unconscious and one crying.

Frank opens his eyes when the lights flicker on the next morning. He groans in pain.  
"Frank! Frankie, you're alive!"  
"Feels like I wish I wasn't," Frank moans.  
Party huffs out a little laugh before climbing to his feet.  
"Come on, lets get you in bed."  
He pulls Frank to his feet and drags him over to his white bed, laying him down as gently as possible. Frank's split lips crack open as he gives a short-lived grin.  
"You... coming on to me?" he asks.  
"Yeah, heroic and stupid is totally my type," Party laughs.  
"Is it shitty of me to admit that I wish I hadn't tried to protect you?" Frank asks, his eyes slipping shut again.  
"I don't blame you," Party says. "I kind of wish you didn't either."  
"You like gettin' beat up?"  
"I'd rather it be me than you," Party mutters.  
"Heroic and stupid."  
"Yeah," Party grins.  
"Stay with me?" Frank asks, falling into unconsciousness again.  
"Now who's coming on to who?" Party chuckles, slipping onto the mattress next to Frank. He puts himself between Frank and the door and hopes the Dracs don't come that day.

No one comes to their door all day, not even to deliver food or pills.  
Frank sleeps for most of the day, his lungs rattling and his wounds slowly healing. Party stays curled up next to him. He keeps a hand on Frank's neck, the only uninjured part of him, so he can be constantly reassured by the steady pulse under his fingers.  
When the lights go out that night, Party lets out a sigh.  
"Hey, looks like we got a day off huh?"  
Frank's face twitches into a half smile.  
"Told you it was worth it," he whispers.  
"When they come back," Party says, "you stay in bed, still and quiet, alright? I'll make sure they take me."  
"I'm strangely okay with that," Frank mutters.  
Party chuckles and presses a soft kiss to Frank's bruised cheek.  
"You must've really pissed them off, Frankie. They went harder on you then they ever have on me."  
"When I first got here," Frank says, "I always fought. I managed to kill like... two Dracs, I think. It got a lot worse after that."  
"Did you fight yesterday?" Party asks gently.  
"With everything I fucking had in me."  
"Good." Party whispers. "Good for you."  
"Tell me about the Zones, Party?"  
Party settles in closer to Frank's side, one hand still resting against his throat, and starts whispering.  
"It's always hot out there. The sun is just this big ball of radiation in the sky, always trying to burn you to ash. You build up callouses from burning your hands on hot metal and gun grips. The food sucks and water is scarce and expensive. We squat in abandoned buildings sometimes, but there's this one diner that's always belonged to my crew. It's way out of the way. We decorated it up with anything we could get our hands on. Old flags and posters, bits of fabric and signs. It's home, you know?"  
"I wanna see it when we get out of here."  
"I'll bring you with me. You can ride with me and my crew."  
"I'd like that," Frank says, eyes slipping shut.  
"I've got this old car with an open roof. We found some paints one time and graffitied her up. She's awesome. Sometimes I take her out and just drive as fast as I can, just red line it all the way across the desert. The hot, dry wind in my hair and nothing stopping me, no one telling me no. The DJ plays music and I turn it up all the way. The speakers are shot but it doesn't even matter."  
"I can't remember any music," Frank mutters sadly. "I can't remember any of the songs anymore."  
"When we get out, I'll bring you to meet the DJ. He's a shiny guy, kinda weird. I'll make him play you every song he's got."  
"Can you sing one for me?" Frank asks. "Right now?"  
Party smiles a little. "Sure, Frankie."  
He picks a slow one, something he heard a while back, and starts singing softly. He sings until Frank falls asleep, then keeps on singing.

The Dracs don't come the next day either. Neither does any food or water.  
"It's either punishment, or a test."  
"What do you mean?" Party asks.  
"They'll come back in a few days and tell us we can have all the food and water we want, as long as we take the pills."  
"Fuck that."  
Frank shrugs gently. "It's pretty effective."

The next day they barely move from Frank's bed. Their tongues are dry and swollen, their heads hurt. Frank feels like his stomach is sticking to his spine.  
"I'm so hungry I feel like I'm gonna throw up," Party mutters. "Does that make any sense?"  
"No, but I feel the exact same way."  
When the lights go out, they curl closer together. Frank's face is all but healed now, only the worst of the bruises still showing through. The lack of food and water is taking it's toll though, and he's healing slower than he should.

Frank wakes Party up later that night, shaking him gently.  
"Hey. Hey, Party."  
Party wakes but doesn't waste energy opening his eyes.  
"Yeah?"  
"I remembered my name."  
Party opens his eyes at that, pulling back a little to see Frank's face in the dark.  
"Yeah?"  
"Yeah. It was Fun Ghoul. I was called... Fun Ghoul."  
They both smile and Party presses a dry kiss to the corner of Frank's mouth.  
"Fun Ghoul," Party whispers. "I like it."

The lights have barely flickered on the next morning when the tromp of boots reaches their ears.  
Party grabs Ghoul's hands, holding them tight.  
"Remember what I said, right? You stay down, I'll make sure they take me."  
"Stupid," Ghoul mutters.  
"And heroic, yeah I know."  
Party struggles to stand, his head spinning from dehydration. He just manages to get to his feet when the door slides open and two Dracs walk in.  
"Come on you pieces of shit," Party slurs. "It's me you want, I'll take you both on."  
"Idiot," one of the Dracs mutter.  
Party blinks. "Kobra?"  
The Drac pulls it's mask off, revealing a thin, tanned face. "Yeah, you moron. We're breaking you out, let's go."  
Party sways but manages to stay on his feet. He looks to Ghoul, who's already passed out again.  
"Help me with him," Party mutters, staggering to Ghoul's side.  
"Why, who is he?" asks the other Drac. Party recognizes Jet Star's voice through the rubber mask.  
"He's a runner and I promised him... Promised I get him out."  
"Fuck, okay," Kobra Kid says, nodding to Jet Star. "You take him, I'll help Party."  
Party slings an arm around his shoulders, watching as Jet heaves Ghoul to his feet. Kobra pulls his mask back down and they leave the small, white room.  
"What about everyone else?" Party asks quietly as they walk.  
"Once we get back with you, the fucking calvary is coming in for the rest."  
Another pair of Dracs walk past them, going in the opposite direction. They don't even spare the four men a glance.  
"How did you pull this off?" Party whispers once they're clear.  
"Had to hack in," Kobra says, hefting Party's arm over his shoulder more securely. "Took for-fucking-ever too. I deleted your room from their system once I realized what they were doing to you."  
"Is that why we haven't gotten any food or water in days?" Party hisses.  
"Oh," Kobra says. "I didn't think about that."  
"No shit."  
They reach a door and Party looks up to see the sun for the first time in over a month. He looks back to see if Ghoul is looking up too, but realizes he's still unconcious.  
"How's he doing, Jet?"  
"He's breathing," Jet answers tersely.  
They walk slowly and carefully for a while, not acknowledging anyone they pass. They make it to a BL/ind truck, and Kobra opens the back doors.  
Hands reach out to grab him and pull him up and Party recognizes Show Pony.  
"Told you I was shit at recon," Party says.  
"No kidding," Pony grumbles.  
"It's cool though," Party grins. "I brought you a present."  
Pony looks over Party's shoulder as Kobra and Jet help Ghoul into the truck.  
Pony's jaw drops.  
"Fun Ghoul?!" he cries, rushing forward.  
The three of them set Ghoul on the floor of the truck gently and Pony kneels over him. He brushes his hair away from his face, gasping, and starts pressing kisses everywhere he can reach.  
Party Poison feels a sharp sting of jealousy in his empty stomach.  
Jet climbs forward into the driver's seat and starts the truck, the engine rumbling underneath them.  
"What about the others?" Party asks.  
"When we reach the check point, we'll give the signal," Kobra assures him. "We'll get them all out."  
"You got any... water?"  
Kobra pulls a plastic bottle of BLI water out from under a seat and opens it for him.  
Party takes a quick sip, the cool clean water wetting his mouth and throat, making him want to cry with relief. He crawls over to Ghoul, pushing Pony's hands away, and starts pouring water onto his face.  
Ghoul chokes and splutters, then opens his eyes.  
"Wha-?"  
"Drink, Fun Ghoul," Party says. "It's water."  
Ghoul lets Party hold his head up and drinks the rest of the bottle.  
"Fuck," Ghoul gasps. "What happened? Did they take you?"  
"We're out," Party tells him, brushing wet hair away from his face. "We're out. My crew came. I told you they would."  
"Took their... fucking time," Ghoul says.  
Party laughs and leans over to kiss him on the mouth.  
"There's the check point," Kobra says.  
Party looks up in time to see Jet give a thumbs up to a few Dracs standing by other trucks. They continue on and Party looks to Kobra.  
"They're going in now and we're taking you home."  
Party hugs Kobra as tight as he can, which isn't tight at all since he's so weak. Then he lays on the floor of the moving truck and wraps his arms around Ghoul.  
"Hear that? We're going home, Ghoulie. Promised you, didn't I?"  
"Yeah," Ghoul smiles, reaching up to clench his fingers in Party's white uniform. "Yeah, you did."

When they reach the desert, Jet turns the radio on. He searches through static for a while before he finds the DJ's frequency.  
Music pours through the speakers and Party can't help but laugh. Ghoul clutches to him, pressing his face into Party's chest.  
"We're really out," Ghoul gasps.  
Party holds him close as Ghoul starts crying.


	2. Six Months Later

Party jolts awake, reaching for his gun before he even gets his eyes open.  
Ghoul's next to him, face buried in their thin pillow, screaming his head off.  
Party sets his gun back down and reaches for Ghoul, running his hands over his back and through his knotted hair.  
"Ghoul," he mutters. "Ghoulie, it's okay. It's me, Party. You're okay, you're in the Zones."  
Ghoul stops screaming and comes awake slowly.  
"Poison?"  
"It's me, baby. You had another nightmare."  
Ghoul sighs, the air catching on it's way out. "Fuck, Party."  
"I know, I'm sorry," he mutters, stroking Ghoul's face.  
"It's not your fault."  
"Yeah," Party says. "I still feel like shit that I can't make them stop."  
The first time Party had woken up to one of Ghoul's nightmares, he had tried to shake him awake. It was a mistake that he hadn't repeated, because Ghoul had unconciously punched him in the face. He admitted later that he thought he was back in The Room.  
"It's been months since we got out," Ghoul sighs. "When is this shit gonna _stop_?"  
Party lays back down, pulling Ghoul closer and letting him curl up half on top of him.  
"Do you wanna tell me about this one?"  
Ghoul grabs one of Party's hands in his, setting his other hand against Party's throat. The steady thump-thump-thump-thump under his fingers calms him down.  
"It was the one where they tied me to a chair and put my feet in that bucket of water...."  
"The one with the wires?" Party coaxes gently.  
"Yeah. They only did it a few times but... Fuck, it hurt _everywhere_."  
Ghoul never talks about The Room during the day. He never talks about what they did to him in there. Everyone knows he has nightmares, but they've learned not to talk about it.  
He tells Party though, but only afterwards, and only in the safety of Party's arms and in the dark of night in the desert.  
"They had to carry me back to my bed and I remember I couldn't hear anything but ringing until the healing started up."  
Party listens in silence, running his free hand down Ghoul's back.  
"Even my _eyes_ hurt. The nails I had left felt like they were gonna fall off."  
"I wish I had gotten to you earlier," Party admits.  
"It wouldn't have stopped me from fighting back, and then you would be just as fucked up as I am now."  
"There's nothing wrong with you, Ghoulie. It's their fault... and you were so brave."  
Ghoul would've snapped at Party for talking to him like that in front of their crew, but at night, after a nightmare, he just presses closer to Party's warm neck.  
"Sing to me?" he asks.  
Party smiles and presses a kiss to Ghoul's temple. He picks a song the DJ played just that afternoon, slowing it down and making it into a lullaby. He hums over the words he doesn't know.  
Six months in the desert has turned Fun Ghoul back into a Zone Runner. He lives every day with intent, like it could be his last. He fights every fight like his life depends on it. He's tough and independent, vital and ferocious.  
But when he's in bed, wrapped up with Party, he's softer- sadder. He lets Party call him Ghoulie and baby. Lets him run his fingers through his hair and sing to him.  
Two years in a BL/ind facility had turned him into a different person, one that Pony and the other runners that knew him before didn't recognize.  
But Party knew him, inside and out. He kept his promises, too. He brought Ghoul back to the Diner. Took him to see the DJ and made him play music all afternoon. Later that night Ghoul pushed Party into their bed and told him he loved him.  
Party told him his real name, since he knew Ghoul's, and they had made love like they were the only two people that existed.  
Party _is_ the only person that really exists to Ghoul anyway. Everyone else is there, alive and important, but no one compares to Party. In Ghoul's eyes, no one could even hold a match to the blinding light that is Party Poison.

He kisses Party on the neck and lets him sing him to sleep.


End file.
